


Docket 577336: Petition for Annulment

by foryouandbits



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Accidental Marriage, Canon Typical - Alcohol Use, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 22:01:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16104698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foryouandbits/pseuds/foryouandbits
Summary: Eric Bittle, host of the popular cooking showSouthern Confectioneries, kicks off his third season with a special guest, Jack Zimmermann, captain of the Providence Falconers. As part of the show, Jack and Eric are coerced into filming an impromptu wedding ceremony. A week later, it turns out the fake ceremony was actual legal, and they're faced with the question -- how do they get out of this? Do they even want to?





	1. The Ceremony

This had to be their most elaborate fantasy sequence yet.

Since the debut of his show, _Southern Confectioneries with Eric Bittle_ , in the summer of 2017, Eric's random tangents had become something of a novelty. It started on a whim while filming episode three -- Eric casually mentioned the time Mama and Aunt Judy got into a food fight at Christmas when the topic of mint jelly arose, and since both Mama and Aunt Judy were present at the taping, a producer suggested they get a shot of the two ladies actually throwing mint jelly at each other while wearing Christmas sweaters. The cutaway lasted maybe five seconds, but it spawned a trend that quickly caught on with Eric's audience. Compilation montages on Youtube garnered hundreds of thousands of views. By season two, five minutes per episode had been dedicated just to these (often spontaneous) cutaways. People loved them.

Eric thought they were ridiculous, really. He would have preferred to be taken seriously as a baker and chef rather than a meme, but he had to admit they were sometimes fun. Despite their low-budget feel, he did get the opportunity to go to New York and stand in front of the Statue of Liberty when making his Lady Liberty Fingers for the Fourth of July episode. He also, however, was once dressed in full Atlanta Falcons gear and tackled by a real NFL player after stating the reason he never followed in his father's footsteps to become a football coach.

This, however, was something else. For the season three premiere of _Southern Confectioneries,_  the show surprised Eric with a special guest in the form of Jack Zimmermann, an NHL player who Eric had casually mentioned was attractive in a recent interview for _Food Network Magazine_.

"Wait, what?" Eric asked when he stepped on set the day of filming. "Who did you just say is here?"

His producer, Adam Birkholtz, gave him a wide toothy grin and placed a large hand on Eric's shoulder.

"Bro," Adam said, "have I got a surprise for you."

"Oh no," said Eric. "Oh no, you didn't."

"I know you like the dude. I never in a million years thought they'd actually agree to it, but the team said this would be good for his wider appeal. Apparently he's kind of stand-offish to the media. They specifically requested we get him in a cutaway."

"Oh no," Eric repeated.

"We'll go with the flow. See what happens. I have a safety scene in case we need it, but I want to get the segment filmed first."

This had been Eric's full time job for eighteen months now and he rarely got nervous anymore, but as he stepped behind his counter with his familiar ingredients he could feel the heat on his face. Why didn't they warn him? _Jack Zimmermann!_ He never should have done that interview.

"When's he coming out?" Eric asked.

"After the intro," said Adam. "You'll make the pie together."

"Does he even know how to cook?"

"Nope," said Adam. "This is going to be amazing. Derek adjusted the script a bit to fit him in if you want to look it over before we tape for real."

Derek the staff writer handed Eric a piece of paper. Intros were always the longest scripted part of the show but kept to the same format. Eric could usually get it down and make it natural in a half an hour, but when his eyes landed on _Today's special guest is Jack Zimmermann, captain of the Providence Falconers,_  his heart skipped a beat.

"You know how it goes," said Derek. "Feel free to make it your own." When Eric looked up at him, Derek's eyes widened ever so slightly. "Dude, chill. You've had guests on the show before."

"But not JACK ZIMMERMANN," said Eric with much more volume than necessary. He began fanning his face. "Oh Lord, oh Lord, I might pass out. Is he here already?"

"Yeah he's in your dressing room," said Adam.

" _My dressing room_?" Eric asked. The pitch of his voice was so high he expected dogs to start barking. "You put him in there? With my stuff? With my... with my... Oh Lord I think I have a copy of his Body Issue in there."

"Didn't that come out several years ago?" Derek asked.

"Um," said Eric and while Derek looked disgusted, Adam just laughed and shot finger guns at him.

"Whatever you need to relax, bro," said Adam. "Are you cool to start? Or should I fetch your magazine and give you a couple of minutes of alone time?"

"Oh my God let's just start," said Eric. He handed the script back to Derek. "Let's get through a few of them, get my nerves out, and we can go for real."

Everyone took their places. Once Eric put his apron on he felt calmer. Even if Jack Zimmermann was in the building, everything else was the same. He read the teleprompter exactly as Derek had written it, blushing hard when he spoke Jack's name aloud, but by take four he was in his rhythm again.

"And y'all have I got a treat for you today," said Eric, now feeling better about ad libbing, "Captain of the Providence Falconers Jack Zimmermann is here. He and I are going to bake one of my favorites -- Maple Glazed Apple Crumb Pie. Feed a person one bite of this and you might as well start planning your wedding, ha ha... Adam, let's start that over, that was stupid."

Adam, however, wore the blissful look of someone who had just gotten an idea.

"Oh no," said Eric, and that was how he ended up in front of a white arch with Jack Zimmermann. As soon as Adam announced they were filming a wedding scene, half the crew had disappeared to get supplies, and two hours later it was ready. They'd grabbed someone from the courthouse, purchased the arch and several fake flowers from a craft store, and set up in the park across the street before they lost the sunlight.

"Can you explain again why we're getting married?" Jack asked.

Eric did not care why they were getting married. Jack Zimmermann, _the_ Jack Zimmermann from his favorite NHL team, stood just in front of him in a plain white T-shirt and jeans, holding his hands. He was even more attractive in person, from his broad shoulders to his bright blue eyes to his new, short haircut. He was a good height too -- not so tall that it would be awkward to kiss him. Not that Eric was thinking about kissing him.

"Have you seen the show before?" Adam asked.

"Yeah," said Jack and Eric tried very hard not to visibly tense since Jack still held his hands. His elation bubbled in his throat and he swallowed hard to push it back down.

"You know how sometimes we cut away to a scene after Eric says something funny?"

"Like when you put him in a bathtub full of fresh whipped cream?" Jack asked. Eric snickered and Jack looked at him. A smile ticked up the corner of Jack's mouth before he returned his attention to Adam.

"Yeah, like that," said Adam. "This is a cutaway. It'll only be a few seconds but we'll film the bulk of a ceremony to get what we want."

"Do we... do we have to kiss?" Jack asked and his eyes flickered back to Eric's for a worried second. Eric prevented himself from answering "Yes."

"Nah," said Adam. "Just vows or whatever. Justin, did you find rings?"

"Wal-Mart for the win!" said the show's production designer. He held out two gold rings in his hand, one with the $8 price tag still attached.

"Cool. Let's get it."

Adam sent over a man Eric had not seen before. Eric frowned at him and looked back at Adam. "Who is this?"

"That's Johnson. He works at the courthouse. We didn't have time to figure out what people usually say at weddings and he was available." Eric just shrugged his shoulders and looked back at Jack.

"Are you two ready?" Johnson asked.

"Yeah, sure," said Jack.

"Yep," said Eric.

To Eric's surprise, Johnson conducted a fifteen minute ceremony, speaking at great length about the purpose of marriage and the importance of love and commitment before he had both Jack and Eric repeat traditional vows and exchange rings (Eric's was too loose and Jack's was a bit tight).

"And by the power vested in me by the state of Georgia, I declare you both husbands. You may kiss each other."

"Uhhh," said Eric and he looked at Adam.

"Nah, man, we're cool," said Adam. "That was beautiful. I think we got what we needed. Let's head back to the studio." Jack let go of Eric's hands. Eric immediately walked over to Adam.

"Okay, I think that was a little much even for us," said Eric. "Do you honestly think the Falconers are going to let us air this?"

Johnson approached them. "Can you sign this for me please?" he asked, shoving a form in Eric's direction. Eric didn't look at it before he signed his name where Johnson pointed. "And you, sir, if you could be a witness." Adam also signed and Johnson walked over to Jack, who stood with his manager, a woman that Adam had called George earlier.

"I asked his manager," said Adam, pointing over at Jack and George. The two of them were deep in conversation and Jack didn't pay attention as he also signed Johnson's form. "She seemed cool with it."

"I guess if they're cool with it," said Eric. "Are we done here? Can we go make this pie now?"

The taping of the episode was actually quite fun once they got Jack in the kitchen. It was clear from the start he was absolutely clueless on how to bake, and now that they'd broken the ice by getting married, Eric felt less nervous around him.

"Jack, honey, you're going to kill yourself. Use the apple slicer instead," said Eric when Jack fumbled with a chef's knife on an unsteady Granny Smith apple. Eric swiftly removed the knife and replaced it was an apple slicer that was less likely to cut off one of Jack's fingers. Eric watched in amusement as Jack positioned a peeled apple on the cutting board and jammed it through the slicer. Jack's brute strength allowed him to finish all of the apples in under a minute.

"Look at you, you're a natural at this," said Eric. "Do you get to do much baking in the NHL?"

"No," said Jack. "I try to keep away from sugar during the season but I do like using your jam on my game day PB&J sandwiches."

"Really?" Eric asked. He could hear his voice go breathless. He glanced at Justin and Adam, who were nodding enthusiastically at him.

"Yeah, it's good," said Jack.

Eric tried not to swoon.

An hour later Eric pulled a completed pie from the oven. Jack inhaled deeply. "Oh, man, that smells amazing," Jack said.

"Help me put the drizzle on while it's still warm," said Eric. They stood close together and the overhead camera zoomed in as Eric guided Jack's hand to drizzle the maple syrup frosting in long sweeps over the pie's surface. When they completed the task, Eric regretfully let go of Jack's hand. Jack put the side of his index finger in his mouth to lick off some of the frosting. When Eric's eyes followed it, he realized for the first time that Jack still had his ring on.

Eric immediately turned to Adam.

"Adam, he still has his ring on," said Eric. "We just filmed a whole segment with our guest in a wedding ring."

"I couldn't get it off," said Jack sheepishly. "You still have yours on too."

Eric looked down at his hand. It had slid around a little bit, but in his haste to get back to filming, he'd never taken it off.

"Oh darnit," said Eric. "We're going to have to do this all over again, aren't we?"

"Nah, it'll be hilarious," said Adam. "We only have Jack for thirty more minutes, so let's wrap it up."

"Do I get a piece of pie before I go?" Jack asked, his eyebrows up.

"I thought you avoided sugar during the season?" Eric asked.

"It's August. Not quite season yet," said Jack with a shrug. "I'm Canadian. They kick you out of the country if you pass up something with maple syrup on it."

"Give it a couple of minutes to cool down and I'll serve you a slice," said Eric. "Thanks for being a good sport today with the whole wedding hoopla."

"I'm sure it'll be funny," said Jack. "You know, I've been essentially married to hockey since I was born; it was nice to see what it would be like to marry a person. I'll probably never marry someone in real life."

"Aw, hun, I'm sure that's not true," said Eric. "Maybe someday you'll meet a person who matters to you as much as hockey."

"That's a challenge if you never meet anyone," said Jack. "Let's not tell my mother we did this. She'll be angry she didn't get to come. Real or not, she would have enjoyed meeting you."

"Oh yeah? Does she watch the show?"

"Yeah. She loves it. She makes me binge watch it with her when I'm home for breaks. She gave me a jar of your jam before a game last season and then every time I used it we won, so, you know --"

"Now you have to use it all the time," said Eric, nodding. "I hear you. When I played in college we had the weirdest superstitions --"

"You played in college?" Jack asked.

"Yeah, for a bit," said Eric.

"What position?"

"Forward. Usually right wing."

"Yeah, I can see it," said Jack. Eric blushed as Jack's eyes scanned him up and down. "I bet you're speedy."

"Yeah," said Eric. "But I never really got a hang of the whole checking thing." Eric paused, thinking about his short-lived hockey career. "That's why I bake instead! Here, let me cut this up for you. It'll be hot but it should be safe enough to eat."

"We're filming this," called Adam. Eric adjusted his posture to open himself up more toward the camera as he cut a healthy slice for Jack and passed it over with a fork. Jack immediately took a bite and his eyes slid closed upon tasting it. He muttered something that sounded like a swear before he opened his eyes.

"This is amazing. Kind of makes me want to marry you," Jack said with a sneaky grin and a glance in Adam's direction.

Eric burst into laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out chapter three of my other fic, _[Southern Confectioneries by Eric Bittle](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8772907/chapters/20110171)_ for the recipe to Eric's Maple Glazed Apple Crumb pie. Seriously, y'all, it's so good.


	2. The License

A week later Eric returned home from another day of taping, a stack of mail in one hand, a container of pecan sandies in his other. He dropped the container on the counter, stuffed a cookie in his mouth, and then began sifting through the mail. As usual it wasn't anything exciting -- bills and ads for things he didn't want -- until he came across the only interesting item of the bunch, a standard sized envelope from the Fulton County Probate Court. The word _court_ was concerning so he opened it immediately.

"Oh fuck me," he said, half his pecan sandie spilling from his mouth onto the counter.

He was on his phone in an instant. "Adam Birkholtz you pick up your goddamn phone right now," he said as it rang.

"Eric?" Adam asked, confused. "What's up?"

"What's up?" Eric asked with a scoff. " _What's up?_ I'M FUCKING MARRIED TO JACK ZIMMERMANN, THAT'S WHAT'S UP!"

"Did you just now remember this?" Adam asked. "I knew you were freaking out about meeting him but I didn't expect you to go into full blackout mode."

"No, Adam. I just got the marriage license in the mail. I am legally married to him."

"What?" Adam asked.

"Why did you ask someone from the courthouse to marry us? Of course they're going to think it's a real ceremony! I signed a real fucking marriage certificate! You witnessed it!"

"I thought that was a time card!" Adam said. Eric had to lower the volume on his phone as Adam began to yell. "Justin picked him up from the courthouse. He must have told him it was fake!"

"It wasn't fake," said Eric.

"Let me ask Justin, give me a sec."

Eric sunk into a crouch on the kitchen floor. Meeting Jack and taping with him had been fun and they had a few really good conversations, but apart from one or two late nights in his room with a copy of Jack's Body Issue, Eric had not spoken to or thought about him since. There was no way he was going to break the news.

Eric heard muffled voices that led to indistinguishable shouting. "What?" he asked.

"Welp," said Adam and Eric's heart sunk in his chest. "Justin doesn't remember explicitly saying it was fake. He does remember having to fill out paperwork and having to give the courthouse proof of identification for both you and Jack before they would send someone out."

"And he didn't think that was unusual?" Eric shrieked. "He didn't think that was _exactly how someone applies for a marriage license?_ "

"Apparently not," said Adam. "I'll talk to our lawyer. I'm sure we can get it annulled."

"Can we do that without Jack knowing?"

"...I don't think so."

"I AM NOT TELLING HIM," Eric shouted, then he hung up the phone.

Eric drank an entire bottle of wine and ate a dozen pecan sandies before he fell asleep on the couch. Although the TV was on, the buzzing of his phone immediately jolted him out of slumber. He could tell already he was going to have a headache in the morning.

 **401-555-1501**  
     So I guess we're married, eh?  
  
**401-555-1501**  
     Kind of wish we'd taken a honeymoon

Eric could feel his blush from his cheeks to his toes. His whole body was on fire. Jack Zimmermann, captain of the Providence Falconers, legendary NHL athlete, was texting him. And he was _making jokes._ Eric quickly saved the contact and dwelled for far too long on how to reply.

 **Eric**  
     Where would you want to go??  
  
**Jack**  
     I don't know. Europe?  
  
**Eric**  
     Backpacking tour?  
  
**Jack**  
     Maybe. Or the train tour. I speak French so definitely France.  
  
**Eric**  
     I speak southern  
  
**Eric**  
     I would be totally useless and no one would understand me  
  
**Jack**  
     You speak pastries though  
  
**Eric**  
     Lord if you put me in a French bakery I WOULD DIE

Jack didn't respond right away. Eric read and re-read their conversation. Now he was thinking about a real honeymoon with his real husband. A train tour of Europe sounded wonderful, but Eric's thoughts drifted away from landmarks and French cuisine and more to Jack under expensive sheets in a wide heart-shaped bed littered with red rose petals.

He mentally smacked himself. Jack was straight and regardless of what the county of Fulton, Georgia said, they were not really married.

 **Jack**  
     I talked to my lawyer. We'll get it fixed.  
  
      **Jack**  
     Can you just keep it quiet?  


Eric sighed.

      **Eric**  
     Of course :)

He threw his phone onto the table and closed his eyes, thinking about Jack under those sheets again, and snaked a hand into his shorts.


	3. The Consummation

The show's legal counsel, Alice Atley, filed the paperwork and a court date was set, which required Jack to return to Atlanta to appear before a judge. They hadn't spoken since their first text conversation, but Eric still had Jack's number stored in his phone, so the morning before their hearing Eric sent him a message.

 **Eric**  
     Not sure when you're getting in, but can I make you dinner?  
  
**Eric**  
     It's the least I can do for making you come all the way back down here to marry me  
  
**Eric**  
     UNMARRY ME SORRY  
  
**Jack**  
     Haha  
  
**Jack**  
     Yeah we land at 5:30 so I can come over then

The polite thing to do would be to invite Jack's lawyer as well, but Eric selfishly wanted to bask in his marriage for a few hours before it no longer existed. He made a special trip to the butcher and the farmer's market for fresh ingredients and spent the whole of the afternoon cooking something that befit the situation. At seven o'clock the French onion soup simmered, ready to be topped with cheese and broiled, the steak awaited the grill, and the twice-baked potatoes were in the oven for the second time. The doorbell rang and Eric jumped, dropping his spoon to the counter with a clatter. He gave himself a once-over in the reflection of the microwave before he scurried to the front door.

Jack stood on the other side, a blue Falconers hat backwards on his head. It matched his T-shirt and his duffel bag; he clearly came straight from the airport. Eric smiled at him.

"Hey, come on in," said Eric.

"Smells good already," said Jack.

"You're just in time. How do you like your steak?"

"Medium-rare," said Jack.

"Perfect. I'll get them on the grill soon. How was your flight?" Eric took Jack's duffel bag from him and set it on the coffee table where he usually kept the mail he didn't feel like opening right away, then led Jack into the house.

"It was a flight. Nothing special," said Jack. "I like your neighborhood. It's so much more like somewhere you'd grow up compared to where I live. Feels like home."

They entered the kitchen where Jack sat at the counter. Eric began ladling the French onion soup into ramekins. "I imagine where you live has to be a little different," said Eric. "My show's popular and all but it's nothing like living in the town where most of your fans are."

"Yeah. It was kind of nice landing here, actually. Not too many hockey fans in Georgia."

"Except me!" said Eric brightly.

"Except you, yeah," said Jack. "Is that French onion soup?"

"Yep!" said Eric. He'd finished topping the ramekins with cheese and then slid them under the broiler in the second oven.

"Aww man," said Jack lowly. "This is going to be good."

"Go sit in the dining room, I'll bring this out in a second. Can I get you something to drink? I have wine, beer --"

"You're the chef, Bittle, you tell me what to drink."

"I'm a baker," clarified Eric.

"Doesn't smell like a bakery," said Jack.

"Fine," said Eric. He took two wine glasses from the cabinet and a bottle of red from the rack. Jack accepted them and Eric pointed toward the dining room. Once Jack was gone, Eric removed the soup from the oven, the cheese melted and perfect, then plated them. He reduced the temperature on the potatoes before he headed to the dining room where Jack waited with his glass of wine. A second glass, already poured, sat at Eric's place. Eric set the soup down in front of Jack before he sat down himself.

"Be careful, it'll be hot," said Eric.

They ate carefully. Halfway through his soup Jack stopped and looked over. "This is really good," he said.

"Thank you," replied Eric.

"Is this what being married to you is like? Because honestly, I could get used to it."

The laugh caught in Eric's throat before it could come out his mouth; they looked into each other's eyes and Eric felt the weight of what had happened for the first time. It was frustrating, albeit a little funny, that they needed to go through this rigmarole after accidentally marrying each other, but Eric looked at his husband and could feel the pull to be closer to him. They didn't know each other, had only spoken a few times, but Eric _wanted_ to be married to Jack. It would solve a lot of problems -- 23 years of solitude, for one.

"I wouldn't be able to cook every night," said Eric. He looked back at his soup and only ate a few more bites before he got up to put the steaks on the grill. When Eric returned with their main course, they chatted politely about nothing until Jack changed the subject.

"Your studio sent over a copy of the episode for us to approve," said Jack. "I watched it on the plane. Thanks for making me not look like an idiot."

"You were charming," said Eric. "I haven't seen it. Was our wedding at least hilarious?"

"It was pretty funny," said Jack. "They sent me the unedited ceremony too. We can watch it after dinner if you want."

"Sure," said Eric. "What'd your mom have to say?"

"Oh I haven't told her about it yet," said Jack quickly. "Let's get it annulled first and then I'll tell her. Last thing I need is for her to find out about this whole thing."

After dinner Eric served up two slices of peach pie and they moved to the living room to eat them; Jack made a detour back to his duffel bag to retrieve the disc he'd been sent. When he handed it to Eric, he thumbed back toward the front of the house. "You said you played hockey, right, in college?"

"Yep," said Eric.

"So why do you have a photo of you in a figure skating costume?"

"You're just uncovering all my secrets, Jack," said Eric. "I've been figure skating since I was little, but halfway through high school I decided to do hockey instead. I may have been Southern Junior Regionals Champion 2010, but I'm not Olympics material. I switched to something more likely to get me a scholarship and get me the heck out of Georgia."

"You're back in Georgia now, though," said Jack.

"Yeah," said Eric with a sigh. "But not small town Georgia anymore. Atlanta's a little more tolerant than Madison ever was, and I've got the show. It's not like how it used to be."

Jack frowned. "How did it used to be?"

Eric took a deep breath. "You may be my husband, Jack, but that's entirely too much to unpack right now," he said. "Let's just eat some pie and watch our wedding."

"Sorry," said Jack.

"You're fine," said Eric. "I just... have a lot of history with this place. Maybe if we're still friends after this I'll tell you about it."

"I hope we're still friends," said Jack. "I like you."

Eric blushed and turned to the DVD player to hide it. "I like you too, Jack," he said.

They sat together on the couch. The footage of their wedding began just as Johnson, the court employee who did not know this was fake, began the ceremony. Eric immediately felt embarrassed; he was never a fan of seeing himself on camera, even now after twenty-six episodes of his own show and guest judging on a number of baking specials. This was worse, however, because he could see the affection on his face. Jack looked a little awkward, albeit a sexy, sculpted awkward. If Eric didn't know better, he would have assumed this was a real wedding.

"Oh my God, this is ridiculous," said Eric with a laugh after he watched Jack put a ring on his finger. He looked over at Jack next to him on the couch, whose face was visibly tense, his eyes focused on the screen. Whatever Jack was watching, it wasn't the amusing and absurd ceremony that Eric was watching. Jack ate his pie without comment, and then, after the footage cut out, remained looking at the screen without really seeing it.

"Well," said Eric. "That was that. Did you want more pie?"

Jack snapped out of whatever thought train he had been riding. "Oh, no," he said with a shake of his head. "Training camp starts next week. I really shouldn't."

"Okay," said Eric. He held back his comment; training camp or no training camp, if Jack had liked it, he would have accepted another piece. Instead he picked up the plate and walked it back to the kitchen where he began cleaning up their dishes from dinner. He'd just loaded the dishwasher when he noticed Jack looming.

"So," Jack said. "Nine tomorrow."

"Yep," said Eric. "Kind of looking forward to getting this over with."

"Yeah?" Jack asked.

"You must be too," said Eric. "Can't imagine this is fun for you, having to come back to good ol' Georgia and work through legal matters. And with you being a professional athlete -- I don't even want to think about what would happen if people found out about this. Better to get it done and over with before someone with a loud mouth hears and suddenly there are rumors."

"There's always been rumors," said Jack with a shrug. "This is nothing new."

"Maybe rumors -- but secretly getting married? To a man?"

"Like I said. Nothing new."

Eric turned his back and ran a dish sponge over the counters, his face wrought with confusion. When he finished and rinsed the sponge in the sink, he turned to find Jack still standing there, staring down Eric like he had the television. Eric moistened his lips and Jack's gaze followed.

"Did you want something el --"

Jack took a step forward and took hold of the side of Eric's face to guide their lips together. Eric let out an abbreviated "Umph!" of surprise before he closed his eyes and felt it --  Jack's lips were velvety smooth as they slid against his. It lasted only for a few moments, the whisper of their lips against each other's, before Jack let go and stood upright again.

"Am I wrong?" Jack asked. His eyelids were low as he looked down at Eric, but Eric could still see his gaze as it wandered over the features of Eric's face.

Eric quickly shook his head. "No," he said. "You're very right."

"You -- I wasn't sure," said Jack softly. "I wasn't sure until I saw your face when we got married."

"But you?" Eric asked. "I thought you were straight."

"No," said Jack. "Can I kiss you again?"

"Yes."

Jack sunk his lips down onto Eric's again. The mood was different this time -- less soft, less reverent. Jack's whole body was behind this kiss as Eric was pushed into the cabinetry. Jack quickly lifted him up and onto the counter to level their heights, then wrapped his arms around Eric's waist and pulled their bodies close. Eric was the first to open his mouth, eliciting a tiny, muted moan from Jack's throat. Jack lowered his hands down Eric's back, over his ass and then to his legs, which Jack spread open so he could fit between them. Eric in turn wrapped his legs around Jack's waist, pulling them flush together. It wasn't difficult, from this angle, to feel Jack's erection poking at his leg.

Eric let go, breathing hard, his head swimming as he asked the question. "Do you want to go upstairs?" Eric asked.

"God yes," replied Jack. He lifted Eric easily off the counter and set him down. Eric took Jack by the hand and led him to the stairs, which they trotted up and then down the hall to the master bedroom. Once inside Jack picked Eric up again and tossed him onto the bed, then lowered himself down on top of him. Jack kissed him again, a long, intoxicating kiss that sent heat through Eric's entire body. Eric, unsure how to respond, placed one hand on the small of Jack's back and the other just underneath the hem of his T-shirt. Although not what he intended, it caused Jack to remove his hat, tug at the bottom of the T-shirt, and lift it up and over his head. Eric opened his eyes and looked over the expanse of Jack's torso.

"Oh Lord," he said.

"You okay?" Jack asked.

"I have no idea what we're doing here," said Eric. "And you are very sexy."

"It's okay. We're married," Jack whispered into his ear before he pressed his mouth to Eric's neck. Eric moaned loudly, which caused Jack's lips to widen into a full smile. Jack began to undo the buttons of Eric's shirt. In a matter of seconds it was gone and Jack touched the buckle of his belt. He sat up and paused there, silently asking for permission. Eric let out a long, deep breath before he nodded. Jack unbuckled it, unbuttoned Eric's pants, and slid them down and off his legs. When he returned, he stopped down by Eric's hips and planted a kiss just above the waistband of his briefs.

"Can I blow you?" Jack asked.

"Oh my God, yes," said Eric, although he was not entirely sure he'd make it that far. Jack, still only shirtless, now looked thoroughly debauched down at the edge of the bed, laying between Eric's legs, his mouth pink from intense kissing, his hair mussed from their activity. The visual got even worse when Jack pulled Eric's briefs off and took hold of Eric's erection in his hand. Jack looked up with intense blue eyes, not breaking eye contact when he took the first lick and then sank down onto the head. That was as much as Eric could bear; his head fell against the mattress and he closed his eyes, concentrating on the feeling of Jack's hand holding him firmly and his lips and tongue working wonders. Eric attempted to control his writhing but in turn lost control of his voice, moaning and whimpering and repeating Jack's name.

It was over sooner than he wanted it to be; after only two or three minutes of attempting to hold it off, Eric announced his orgasm and Jack pumped Eric with his hand but didn't pull off the head. Eric came into his mouth and peeked down at him with one eye when Jack let go, sat back, and wiped at his wet mouth with his forearm. Eric came down slowly, his breath returning to normal and an overwhelming calm entering his muscles. Then Jack began to unbutton his jeans and Eric realized this wasn't over.

"Let me," said Eric. He sat up and they repositioned so Eric could now remove the rest of Jack's clothing. He didn't know what to do, though, once Jack was naked, or what Jack wanted. Jack seemed to sense this and he placed Eric's hand on his erection and began to guide him up and down. Eric fell into rhythm and watched Jack's face for assistance. Jack looked back at him, his expression much more open than it had been while they sat together on the couch. It was easy to follow his mood here, to know when to go faster and grip tighter. They looked into each other's eyes, grins turning to full smiles until then Jack squeezed his eyes shut and Eric looked back between Jack's legs. He came in four thick spurts and Eric pumped him through it until Jack relaxed and Eric let go. He pulled a tissue from the box on the nightstand and handed it to Jack before he took another to clean the mess from his hands.

"Come here," Jack said.

Eric lay upon the bed next to Jack, who pulled him close to his chest but kissed him only once. Eric's breathing slowed and he rested, taking these few moments in the afterglow to look Jack over, from the red blooms on his cheeks to the hair on his chest, at his strong legs and wide toes. When Eric looked back up to Jack's face, Jack was looking back at him.

"Can I stay with you?" Jack asked. "Tonight?"

"Yes," said Eric, and they kissed again.


	4. The Hearing

It was early the next morning that Jack roused him, earlier than Eric wanted or needed to be awake. "Hey," Jack said and Eric reluctantly opened his eyes. Jack had already put his clothes back on. "My lawyer keeps texting, asking where I am. My Uber's downstairs. I'll see you in a little bit?"

Jack looked apprehensive, like Eric would say no to seeing him again. Then Eric remembered why they would be seeing each other again. His heart sank in his chest at the thought of their upcoming appointment.

"Yeah," said Eric. "In a little bit."

Jack kissed him, long and slow, before he let go, looked Eric over one more time, and then left the room. Eric turned and pulled his covers over his head, but it was no use trying to get back to sleep. He was wide awake.

He took his time getting ready, taking a long shower and fretting for far too long about his clothes, and then his phone rang. It was Alice.

"Do you want me to pick you up?" Alice asked. "I can swing by on my way to the courthouse."

"Sure," said Eric.

"I'll be there in about fifteen minutes."

Eric stuffed a muffin into his face although he wasn't hungry. He left the house ten minutes later at the sound of Alice's car pulling into the driveway. When he sat in her front seat, she immediately put a hand on his forehead.

"You okay, Eric?" she asked. "You look like death."

"I woke up way earlier than I wanted to," he said.

"I hope you're not nervous. This is just a formality. As soon as we tell the judge this was filmed for the show she'll grant the annulment and we can all go back to our lives." Eric frowned. Maybe initially that sounded like a good idea, but after falling asleep on Jack's chest, an annulment no longer held the same appeal. It was still the right thing to do, though, Eric reminded himself.

They arrived at the courthouse and were escorted to a small conference room. When Eric and Alice entered, Jack and his lawyer were already present. Jack's lawyer looked around Jack's age with a thick brown mustache and hair in the sort of in between stage between short and long, as if he were growing it out. They both stood.

"Counsellor," said Jack's lawyer when he shook Alice's hand. "I'm Shitty Knight, representation for Mr. Zimmermann." Alice's eyebrow raised so quickly Eric thought it was going to fly right off her face.

"Shitty Knight?" she asked.

"That's me," said Shitty. "I spoke to Judge Toomer's assistant and she's running a little late, but in the meantime I have some forms of my own for you to sign." Eric sat down at the table across from Jack, who initially smiled but then forced his lips together in a kind of awkward almost-frown. Eric did the same.

"What do you want us to sign?" Alice asked. Shitty pulled two stapled forms from his briefcase and set one in front of Alice and one in front of Eric.

"This is just a non-disclosure agreement. As you know, my client plays for a league that is extremely protective of its players' privacy. A situation such as this could be extremely disruptive to my client's career if it were to get out."

"Your client agreed to the depiction of the wedding ceremony just last night," said Alice.

"For the sake of comedy, yes," said Shitty. "We have no problem with the ceremony, as it was originally intended, to go to air. We do not, however, wish any of these proceedings to be discussed nor for there to be any hint that the marriage was ever legal. These same documents will also be distributed to those involved in the ceremony as a precaution."

Alice perused the pages of the non-disclosure agreement and then nodded to Eric. Eric picked up a pen from the pile in the center of the table and signed it. After Shitty collected the forms and placed them back in his briefcase, the four sat in awkward silence and waited for Judge Toomer to arrive. Eric didn't want to be rude and pull out his phone so he was forced to look around the room, and his gaze settled on Jack several times. Each time it did, Jack looked away.

They sat in silence for about ten minutes before the door opened and a woman in a suit entered. The four of them stood to shake her hand. "Pinkie Toomer, nice to meet you," said the judge as she shook Eric's hand. Eric's eyes widened a little bit and he looked across the table at Jack, whose almost-frown struggled to not become a smile. Everyone introduced themselves, but this time Shitty simply called himself "Counsellor Knight." They waited for Judge Toomer to sit before they did as well.

"I've reviewed your petition for annulment and from a surface level it seems to meet one of the criteria to grant the request, but I need more information before I can make an official ruling. It is my duty to inform you, Counsellors, that your clients are not under oath but it would behoove them to respond in a complete and accurate manner so as not to delay this hearing.

"Now, Counsellor Knight, in your petition it states that your client, Mr. Jack Zimmermann, was invited to be a guest on Mr. Eric Bittle's television show, and during the taping of that show on August the tenth of this year, a wedding ceremony took place that your client believed to be an act."

"Correct, your honor," said Shitty.

"Counsellor Atley, can you explain how this ceremony came to be?"

"Your honor, as part of my client's show, we often film farcical vignettes for comedic effect," said Alice. "My client, having joked earlier in the taping that the pie the two would make would have the same effect as a marriage proposal, set the stage for us to film a wedding ceremony. In about two hours the show's crew purchased decorations and brought my client and Mr. Zimmermann to the park across the street from the studio's property to film this ceremony. A Mr. Johnson from the Fulton County Probate Court was also commissioned to officiate."

"I have the application for the marriage license in your file," said Judge Toomer. "The application was completed and signed by both parties and two forms of identification were collected. Why was an application filed if the ceremony was intended to be an act?"

"The identification was collected from my client under the pretense that it was needed to gain access to the studio where the taping would occur," said Shitty.

"And my client's identification was already on file," said Alice. "Nothing was asked of him on the date in question."

"How was the application signed?" asked Judge Toomer.

Eric and Jack exchanged a brief look when neither Shitty nor Alice immediately replied.

"I believe my client did not pay attention to what he was signing," said Shitty first, and Alice quickly agreed.

"Right," said Judge Toomer. "Then after the application was granted and the license commissioned, Mr. Johnson was taken to the location of the ceremony, where it was performed per tradition. Both Mr. Bittle and Mr. Zimmermann verbally confirmed vows, exchanged rings, and then proceeded to sign the marriage license. The license was then witnessed by a Mr. Adam Birkholtz and a Mr. Justin Oluransi."

"That is correct," stated Shitty. Judge Toomer looked at Alice.

"That is correct," said Alice.

"You understand where I'm going here," said Judge Toomer. "From what you've just said, your clients properly applied for a license, completed a ceremony, and then signed said license. At no point during this process did either of them question the legality of the proceedings."

"Your honor, if I may," said Shitty, "at no point was my client led to believe that the proceedings were intended to be legal."

"Counsellor, if your client willingly participated in a ceremony, applied for and signed a marriage license, it is not the fault of the court that he did not read what he was signing," said Judge Toomer. "That being said, I will not leave the decision up to just this. What was the relationship of your clients prior to the application for marriage?"

"Our clients have never met prior to the application for marriage," said Alice.

"Why was Mr. Zimmermann contacted to be a guest on the show?"

Alice paused and looked at Eric before she replied to Judge Toomer. "My client is a fan of Mr. Zimmermann's. It is a fact well-known amongst the crew."

"How is it a fact well-known?" Judge Toomer asked.

Alice visibly tensed. "My client stated during an interview for a magazine article published earlier this year that he found Mr. Zimmermann attractive."

Jack's almost-frown vanished, replaced with a playful grin, and he looked across the table at Eric, who blushed.

"I see," said Judge Toomer. "And you, Mr. Zimmermann. Were you aware of this?"

"He was," said Shitty. Eric looked back at Jack in surprise, and as Jack attempted to hide his smile he just looked embarrassed.

"At any point since the date in question has the marriage been consummated?" Judge Toomer asked.

Alice and Shitty immediately said, "No," but Jack and Eric looked at each other and then quickly looked away. Judge Toomer witnessed the exchange.

"Counsellors I would remind you that it is in your clients' best interest to give a full and accurate depiction of these events less we take the matter to full court." Alice turned in her chair to look at Eric, who felt his entire face flush red.

"Define consummate," Eric said.

"Eric," said Alice as if disappointed.

"Consummation is to make a marriage complete by having sexual intercourse. In the case of two men, it means having sexual relations."

"Define sexual relations," said Jack.

"The act of touching one another's private areas manually or orally with explicit intent," said Judge Toomer.

"Then yes," said Eric with extreme reluctance.

"Your honor may I have a minute with my client?" asked Alice. Judge Toomer looked at Shitty.

"Counsellor Knight?"

"I would also appreciate a minute to confer with my client off the record," said Shitty.

"We'll take a five minute recess," said Judge Toomer. "When I return, I expect this to be cleared up." Judge Toomer left the room. As soon as she shut the door behind her, Eric put his elbows on the table and his hands in his hair.

"Dude!" yelled Shitty in Jack's direction.

"We had sex last night," said Jack in muffled exasperation. Eric continued to stare at the table beneath him and refused to look at anyone else.

"Dude!" yelled Shitty again. "I told you this was going to be a simple proceeding! Why'd you have to go and literally fuck it up just hours before the hearing?"

"I just --" Jack attempted his sentence several times but never actually said anything. "Can I just talk to Eric for a minute?"

"We have four minutes before Judge Toomer returns," said Shitty. "There's no time. Spit it out."

Eric raised his eyes from the table and looked over at Jack. Jack looked at him in return, and for the first time since Eric entered the room, Jack frowned for real. "Please just give us a minute," said Eric. Shitty groaned in frustration before he stood and left the room. Alice gave Eric's back one pat before she also left.

"What do you want to do?" Jack asked.

"I don't know," said Eric. "We should do it. Regardless of what happened last night we still thought we were getting married for the show."

"But I liked you even before the show," said Jack. "My mom didn't make me binge watch all the episodes. I bought your jam myself." Eric stared at Jack in disbelief. "And you -- you liked me, right?"

"Yes," said Eric. "But we're _married_ , Jack. We don't even know each other."

"That's okay," said Jack. "We can get to know each other."

"We live a thousand miles apart."

"We'll figure it out," said Jack with a consistent nod, as if he wanted Eric to agree as well. When Eric just stared in return, Jack stopped nodding. "Do you not want to try?" he asked.

"I -- I --" Eric paused and swallowed hard. "I do."

"I do too," said Jack.

The door opened again and Shitty, Alice, and Judge Toomer entered. Everyone returned to their seats. Judge Toomer looked at Jack and then at Eric. "I'll repeat my question. Was the marriage consummated?"

"Yes," said Eric and Jack together. Eric felt his lips curl upward into a smile. Judge Toomer sighed in what sounded like resignation.

"Is it the wish of both parties to proceed with the petition for annulment?" she asked.

"No," said Eric and Jack together. Shitty dropped his forehead into his palm with an audible _smack_.

"Then the petition is denied and the marriage stands as is. You are dismissed." Judge Toomer stood and left the room.

"Seriously, Jack," said Shitty.

"And this is what you want, Eric?" Alice asked.

"Yeah," said Eric with a nod. "Definitely."

"I don't even know what to say now," said Shitty as he stood. "You're telling George this one, bro. I'm not going anywhere near it." Shitty gathered his briefcase and headed out of the room. Alice followed behind him, leaving Eric and Jack to slowly bring up the rear. When they reached the door, Jack took Eric's hand.

"How long until training camp?" Eric asked.

"Another week," said Jack.

"Technically I'm supposed to be filming this week," said Eric. "But if you wanted to fly me to France today, I wouldn't object."

"We could be in Paris by morning," said Jack. "Just in time for pastries."

"I can't wait," said Eric. Jack kissed his cheek and Eric giggled. They left the courthouse together, unsure how this was going to work, but both in agreement that it was worth a try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pinkie Toomer is actually a probate judge in Fulton County, Georgia, and that makes me very happy.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Stop by [my tumblr](http://foryouandbits.tumblr.com/) and say hi :)


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